


Unsafe

by Elisexyz



Series: Unsafe [1]
Category: Lost in Space (TV 2018)
Genre: Between Seasons/Series, Canon Compliant, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Missing Scene, Post-Episode: s01e10 Danger Will Robinson, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22148689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: The hardest part of a long day is probably attempting to lie down at the end of it.
Relationships: John Robinson/Maureen Robinson
Series: Unsafe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601227
Comments: 21
Kudos: 40





	Unsafe

**Author's Note:**

> For the "Give John Some Medical Care" saga. What's that man made of, metal?  
>  Also, I hope I didn't mess up with Maureen's POV!

The hardest part of a long day is probably attempting to lie down at the end of it.

Maureen’s brain is buzzing, annoyingly out of touch with her body, which, as it would seem from her aching limbs, back and head, needs an inconvenient amount of rest, especially after so many high stress situations all piled together.

John is already lying in bed, eyes tiredly following her while she paces around aimlessly, as if a few more drops of sweat could finally tire her overstimulated mind out.

They’ve been sucked into a _black hole_ , they’ve been transported to an unknown planet, which according to Will the Robot marked as dangerous, and the only thing that they know about it is that they could find a strand of sand to land on and that the air is unbreathable. There is so _much_ that—

“ _Please_ ,” John breathes out, his voice full of fond exasperation. “I can hear you thinking all the way from here.” He extends his hand to the empty half of the bed, eyes half-closed as he pats the mattress and adds: “Come on, let’s sleep.”

“I know, I know, you’re right,” she mutters, her voice still quivering with restless energy. To her own credit, she does attempt to lie down, settling on her side and closing her eyes after she has turned off the lights and she can feel the comforting weight of John’s arm on top of her, _yet_ —

How can she sleep, when she doesn’t know where she is? Every second is precious, they should be trying to figure out how to get _off_ , and what use is there in trying to sleep when her eyes are pushing to be opened and she’s so full of restless energy that her mind is strongly opposing the way her muscles attempted to relax as soon as she laid down?

She lets out a sigh of frustration, already half-convinced that she should just get up, drink some coffee and start working on a solution, when she mindlessly tosses around, shifting on her back. John’s reaction is a very prominent grunt of pain.

“John?” she calls out, startled.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he mutters, but her fingers are already searching for the light switch before she has even registered how choked his voice is.

She didn’t elbow him or anything, she hardly _touched_ him—

“What’s wrong?” she presses, her eyes scanning him from head to toe. He’s lying half-way on his side, one palm pressed on his abdomen and the other on his mouth, his face twisted in an horribly pained grimace.

Before he can try and claim to be _fine_ again, she gets him to loosen his grip and she pulls up his shirt. She lets out a frankly embarrassing, if at least strangled, shriek.

“What’s _this_?!”

John considers her for a moment. “Bruises, I imagine,” he says then, all too calmly not to get on her nerves, because she _swears_ , there’s not an inch of skin anywhere near his ribs that’s left untouched, how was he even _walking_ with that, what was he _thinking_ —

“I can _see_ that they are bruises, when did it happen and why didn’t you say anything, _John_ , what the _hell_ —?!”

The words roll off her tongue so fast she barely registers them, her voice quivering with anger and fear as she tries to assess the situation, though she’s no trained medic and right now her mind is so _blank_ with terror and—

“I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the preparations to get hauled into space,” John offers, with a grimace, as he pulls down his shirt. Maureen is too busy staring at him numbly at the unwelcome realization to do anything but let him. “Getting _actually_ hauled into space probably didn’t help matters.”

She just keeps staring, images of an attempted escape from a condemned planet investing her all at once, and though it seems like a lifetime ago, with everything that happened, it _isn’t_ , they pretty much tortured him in the disguise of training, until Judy was worried enough that she _ordered_ them to stop, and then they launched him into space and she didn’t even think about _asking_ if he was okay.

And it was all her idea to begin with.

“As for _why_ I didn’t say anything,” John continues, oblivious to the guilt choking her. “We had bigger fish to fry up until five minutes ago and, honestly, I kinda forgot myself.” He offers a reassuring smile. “And they’re only bruises, I can handle it ‘til morning, alright?”

The first thing that Maureen thinks is that they don’t even have any idea if it is night to begin with, they are just heading to bed because they are all exhausted.

Which is a monumentally stupid thing to focus on, because as soon as she fully registers what he just said she’s filled with so much anger that she almost forgets to feel guilty about this whole situation.

“Are you _kidding_ me?!” she thunders, loud enough that everyone on the ship probably heard her. “We’re going to get Judy, right _now_!”

“Come on, Maureen, it’s been a long day, let her sleep, I’m—”

“ _Don’t_ —” she warns, her tone threatening enough that it shuts him up immediately. “Don’t you say that you are _fine_ , or I’m going to kill you myself. Now we are going to get up, and we are having Judy check you out, _from head to toe_.”

She can tell by the slightly exasperated look on his face that he thinks she’s exaggerating, that he wants to sleep and that he trusts his instincts enough to be positive that there is nothing life-threatening going on at the moment. On a good day Maureen might just trust his knowledge of his own limits, _maybe_ , but right now, with everything that’s happened and the feeling of _danger_ creeping under her skin, she can only think that there might be internal damage, that everything has been going wrong and she can’t just let him go to sleep not knowing if he’ll ever wake up. She _can’t_.

“Get _up_ ,” she insists, and she can feel her eyes stinging. He must have seen _something_ , or maybe he heard the crack in her voice, because his face softens. “Let’s go check it out, I am not going to explain to our kids why I let you die in your sleep instead of acting like a responsible adult.”

“Okay, okay,” he says, softly, pushing himself up and reaching out to squeeze her hand in reassurance.

It doesn’t stop her racing heart, but it does help breathe a little more easily.

“Let’s go, yeah?” he prompts then, a small smile on his face and in his eyes a silent promise that everything is going to be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates comments, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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